


Background Check

by ghostystarr



Series: not by blood, but by heart [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Slice of Life, and they love bokuto a lot, the black jackals quartet bein bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:12:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26450185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostystarr/pseuds/ghostystarr
Summary: Atsumu and Hinata have been changing Bokuto's lockscreen for weeks as a joke, but when it suddenly changes to a picture of Akaashi Keiji, the game takes a dramatic turn."Oh my god," Atsumu mutters. "Bokkun has a crush."
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: not by blood, but by heart [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1929478
Comments: 89
Kudos: 993
Collections: Haikyuu!!, My favorite haikyuu fics, bokuaka lol screaming





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this house, we love and support the MSBY Black Jackals.

It’s a well-known secret that Bokuto doesn’t lock his phone. He always leaves it on the bench or chucks it into his open gym bag before running onto the court. Most of the Black Jackals ignore it or, at the most, move it to a spot less prone to sabotage. The three that are closest to Bokuto, however, can’t pass on the opportunity and sabotage it anyways.

Atsumu is the one who starts the tradition. He picks up Bokuto’s phone accidentally, realizing as soon as the lockscreen flashes that it’s not _his_ black iPhone. It’s of a volleyball with a crudely-scribbled face on it, looking rather smug and borderline creepy. A sticky note barely hangs onto the surface and the ball seems to be proudly named Kuroo. “That’s hideous,” Atsumu proclaims and, to his delight, rediscovers that Bokuto doesn’t lock his phone. He starts up the camera app and snaps a selfie of himself, sticking out his tongue and flashing a peace sign.

As Atsumu goes to the settings, Hinata creeps up behind him. “Atsumu-san, what’re you doing?”

“Bokkun doesn’t lock his phone,” he replies, “so I updated his background.” He grins and shows Hinata, who snorts.

“You made an ugly face. That’s funny.”

“Ha, yea-wait. I wasn’t makin’ an ugly face! Hey! _Shoyo!”_ Atsumu puts the phone back on the bench before chasing after Hinata, who is already fleeing to Sakusa for safety.

“BASE!” Hinata shouts as he hovers beside Sakusa, who shirks away with an exasperated look at Atsumu. To Hinata’s credit, Atsumu doesn’t make an attempt to step into Sakusa’s personal space. Not since the incident.

When Bokuto notices the change later, he breaks into laughter. “Tsumu, you look so funny!”

Atsumu’s jaw clenches. Hinata and Bokuto exchange glances and dash towards Sakusa, who makes a break for the doors before they can catch up to him.

Hinata is the one to keep the train going. Atsumu gets roped into extra practice with Bokuto, who is extremely confident that his cross hits are going to be extra sharp today. He sits on the sidelines, watching them hit ball after ball. Hinata sets his water bottle down on the floor, nudging something else. Bokuto’s phone.

Hinata freezes. He glances at the phone then at Bokuto and Atsumu then back to the phone. He folds his hands in his lap and pretends that he isn’t thinking about taking a photo and changing the background. It’s not his phone and it’s not polite to be poking around something so personal. Especially Bokuto, who has always been kind and encouraging.

The sound of volleyballs rhythmically hitting the gym floor passes the time. Long seconds that stretch into minutes. He watches the clock tick from 4:18 in the afternoon to 4:19.

Then, in a flash, Hinata grabs Bokuto’s phone and quickly snaps a grainy, zoomed-in picture of the clock just as it hits 4:20 and fumbles with the settings.

When Bokuto sees it, he stares at the screen for a long time then glances at the clock at the wall. “That’s weird…”

Atsumu stretches as he wanders over. “What is?” He spots the phone in Bokuto’s hand and points at him accusingly. “Ya better not say my face.”

Sakusa snorts and hurriedly turns away when Atsumu points at him instead.

“No. The clock on my phone isn’t moving.”

Hinata covers his mouth as he holds in his humor. Atsumu glances over. “Bokkun,” he whispers softly, genuinely concerned, “that’s a picture, man.” Hinata’s laughs escape him. Atsumu stares in absolute awe. “Hinata Shoyo, did’ya change his background? To four-twenty?”

“You turned off his digital clock, too,” Sakusa mutters, looking almost impressed.

Atsumu puts his hands on his hips. “Who taught ya what that number means?”

Sakusa grimaces. “You did.”

“Ah.”

After they fix Bokuto’s phone so it displays the true time once more, Bokuto squawks at the hour. He shoves his phone into his coat pocket before collecting his stuff and rushing towards the locker room. “I gotta go! I promised a friend I’d Skype him tonight!”

“Don’t forget your sweatshirt again!” Sakusa barks after him, but Bokuto is already gone.

It becomes a little game after that. Atsumu and Hinata begin taking pictures regularly. Bokuto never minds. Most of the time he actually enjoys seeing what they’ve changed it to and jokes along with them. Various selfies, both overly serious and overly dumb, or zoomed in pictures of Sakusa face-down on the gym floor after particularly rough practices, or random items found in the gym. They balance everyone’s water bottles into a pyramid and Atsumu takes a picture of Hinata kneeling in front of it with his hands folded in prayer. Or Atsumu balancing a volleyball on his finger. Or Meian yelling at them for playing on a phone instead of cooling down.

“You’re idiots,” Sakusa tells them bluntly after Meian storms off. “Why do you keep changing it?”

Atsumu shrugs. “Well, once practice is over, things’re pretty boring ‘round here.”

Hinata nods. “Bokuto-san thinks they’re funny, too. He’s already said he’s fine with it.”

Sakusa is quiet for a few moments then, to everyone’s surprise, he says, “You could at least change it to something useful.”

Atsumu raises an eyebrow. “Oh? What exactly are ya suggestin'?”

The next thing they knew, they’re standing in front of Bokuto’s locker. Sakusa fixes his mask over his nose and carefully opens Bokuto’s locker. “He doesn’t lock this either?” Atsumu frowns. “Does the guy just trust everyone he meets?”

Hinata shrugs. “Guess so.”

Atsumu clears his throat. “Hey, uh, Omi-kun, yer not, like, gonna blackmail him or something, right?”

Sakusa gives him a dry look. “He’s left a smelly, old sweatshirt in his locker for two weeks. I keep reminding him to take it home and wash it. But he always forgets.”

“So you’re changing his background to that?” Hinata hums. “It’s like sub-level messaging.”

“Subliminal,” Atsumu corrects.

Sakusa snaps the pic and updates the lockscreen. “There. If he still forgets after that, I might really have to blackmail him.” He pockets the phone back into Bokuto’s bag and walks to his own locker. He pulls out his own bag. “I’m leaving. Don’t be late tomorrow, Miya.”

Atsumu scoffs. “Why’re ya callin’ _me_ out? Sho-kun was late, too!”

Hinata’s jaw drops as he glares at Atsumu. Sakusa just levels them with a deadpan expression until they both agree to be on time tomorrow.

“Omi-san is kinda scary,” Hinata whispers once he leaves the locker room, and Atsumu nods in agreement.

The scariest part is that it works, and Bokuto goes home with the sweatshirt with a sunny smile directed at Sakusa, who pretends not to notice.

And, just like that, Sakusa is in on their game. Though he doesn’t willingly participate in the photos themselves, he will take them if asked. From time to time, he’ll suggest an idea that usually serves more of a purpose than a joke, but Atsumu and Hinata find the fact that Sakusa pays such close attention to Bokuto’s antics somewhat endearing and confusing. They can’t argue that it doesn’t get results, though. Bokuto’s locker is cleaner than it’s ever been.

“Thanks, Omi-kun!” Bokuto says one night as they change. “I’ve been looking for that sock for weeks!”

Sakusa zips up his jacket and hums in acknowledgement.

Atsumu glances over his shoulder. “Hey, Bokkun! Barnes invited us for drinks tonight. Ya comin’?”

Bokuto shakes his head. “Nope. An old friend of mine is coming to visit. We made plans.”

“Hold up.” Atsumu gasps. “You have friends outside of volleyball?”

“Huh?”

“Oh my god. Don’tcha dare tell me it’s someone _inside_ of volleyball? Are ya seeing Kuroo? I’ll quit.”

Bokuto laughs. “It’s not Kuroo this time. Though, this friend played volleyball for a while, too. But now he’s a real adult.”

Sakusa glares. “As opposed to who exactly?”

“Bye, guys! Have fun! Don’t get too drunk, Tsumu!”

“Alright, then.” Atsumu puffs out his cheeks. “Keep yer secrets.”

The next day, Bokuto is the last to arrive at practice. It’s not common, but not exactly unheard of either. Atsumu, Sakusa, and Hinata do their stretches together, already mindlessly struggling to agree on what to take a picture of next.

Hinata shrugs. “I dunno. Uh. What if I did a handstand on the toilet?”

“Absolutely not,” Sakusa snaps.

“We already did that, Shoyo.” Atsumu sighs.

Sakusa shivers. “I’m stretching somewhere else.” He grabs his kneepads and storms off to the other side of the gym, where Meian and Inunaki give him a sympathetic nod.

Atsumu clicks his tongue in annoyance as Bokuto finally bursts through the gym doors with a loud apology. Meian instructs him to warm up with a warning to be more careful. Atsumu sighs. “Maybe we should change it to the damn schedule.”

Practice continues on as normal. Bokuto is particularly into it, lifting Hinata over his head when Atsumu and he pull off an impressive quick. By the end, Hinata is dreaming of dinner and sleep. He yawns as he approaches Atsumu and Sakusa in the locker room. “Hey, Tsumu. Did you really change it to the practice schedule?”

“He should,” Sakusa mutters, digging in his own locker. “It’s bad enough that Miya’s always late.”

“Whatever. I’m workin’ on it.” Atsumu turns on Bokuto’s phone and habitually begins to swipe at the camera app, but he stops short when he realizes that Bokuto has changed his background. “Well, that’s new.”

“Hm?”

“He set his own background.” Atsumu blinks. “Who the hell is _that?”_

He shoves the phone in Hinata’s face, who squints at the picture in question. A man at a train platform smiles back at them, giving a toothy smile with flushed cheeks as he waves to the camera. He has messy dark hair and thick glasses and a fluffy scarf. Hinata grins. “Oh! That’s Akaashi-san!”

“Akaashi-san,” Atsumu parrots, angling the phone back to himself. “Oh. The high school setter, huh?”

“Akaashi-san is great!” Hinata claps his hands together. “He comes to our games sometimes!”

Atsumu hums noncommittally. He takes in Akaashi’s smile for a second longer before realizing exactly who he was looking at. “Wait. Is this the same Akaashi that Bokuto cried about to us at Tomas’s birthday party? The ‘one that got away’?”

“I guess? I don’t know another Akaashi.”

“Oh my god,” Atsumu mutters. “Bokkun as a crush.”

Hinata lets out an amazed squeal. Sakusa reaches for the Excedrin. Atsumu shushes him, glancing at the door. “Shoyo-kun, shaddup. He could hear ya all the way to Tokyo with pipes like yours.”

Sakusa gives them a withering look. “Are you guys serious?”

“Look!” Atsumu taps the screen awake again and holds it for Sakusa to see. “Look at it! It’s one thing to take a pic with yer buddy. It’s another to take one _of_ him and set it as yer lockscreen! This guy is the first thing Bokuto sees in the morning!”

Hinata taps his chin. “Come to think of it, they were always together. I mean, Akaashi-san was vice captain so I guess that makes sense. Then again,” Hinata raises his shoulders, “Suga and Daichi-san were like that, too, and they’re dating.”

Atsumu gags. Sugawara Koushi and Sawamura Daichi once appeared during a press event. They’d politely re-introduced themselves and handed over some home-baked treats as a token of good luck for their upcoming season. They were warm and sweet and caring and Atsumu feels nauseous every time they came near him. “If Bokuto starts acting like them then I’m gonna just die right now.”

Sakusa’s lips twitch upwards.

“Got something to say, Omi?”

Sakusa’s face goes passive again. “Even if Bokuto did like this guy, so what? It’s not your business.”

Atsumu shrugs. “It’s not. I _don’t_ care.”

Hinata pouts. “I wonder if Akaashi-san likes him back.”

Sakusa zips up his jacket. “I don’t care.”

Hinata looks between the two of them. “What if he does?”

“I don’t care!” Atsumu and Sakusa reply simultaneously.

The locker room falls silent. The three of them glance at the phone, feeling like they stumbled across something that wasn’t meant to be seen. Atsumu is the first to break. “Ugh!” He grabs his hair. “I hate _people!”_ With that, he shoves Bokuto’s phone, untampered, back into Bokuto’s bag and stomps away.

None of them change Bokuto’s background for the next few practices. Atsumu seems to be in a worse mood than usual, tossing too fast and getting irritated when the spikes don’t connect as well as normal. Sakusa is even quieter, which is saying something, but he keeps glancing at Atsumu as if he was trying to communicate something. During a break, Sakusa and Atsumu sit six feet apart on a bench with matching sullen expressions. Hinata plops down between them and asks, “Are you guys, like, okay?”

“So what if Bokuto has a crush?” Atsumu says immediately, like the words have been simmering for days. “It’s not like we’re friends. He doesn’t hafta tell us anything.”

Sakusa nods. “Right.”

Hinata smiles, confused. “Okay.”

Atsumu crosses his arms. “I don’t care. I have secrets, too, yanno.”

“Like what?” Sakusa mutters.

Atsumu scowls. “M’not fallin’ for that.”

“Oh, boy,” Hinata whispers under his breath.

Just as Hinata takes a sip of water, Atsumu adds, “I’m an _excellent_ wingman. I’m a setter. It’s my _job_ to make my spikers look good. Does he just think I can’t do that _off_ the court?”

Sakusa hums. “Probably thinks you’re too dumb.”

“I’ll show _him_ who’s too dumb!” Atsumu stands up, fists clenched at his side. “Let’s go!” He marches onto the court, where Bokuto is still practicing his serves. “Hey! Bokkun!”

“Why do you look mad?” Bokuto puts the ball cart between him and Atsumu. “Are you mad!?”

Hinata glances at Sakusa, who’s watching the scene play out with a blank face. “You riled Tsumu-san up on purpose.”

Sakusa stays quiet.

“Because you want Bokuto-san to be happy?”

No response.

Hinata lights up and places a hand on his chest. “I knew you cared.”

“I’m gonna get ya a date, dumbass!” Atsumu yells on the other side of the gym, pointing at Bokuto like it’s a threat.

“MIYA,” Meian shouts over the sound of Bokuto calling for backup, “GET BACK TO WORK.”

.

After practice ends, Bokuto finds himself at a table with Atsumu, Hinata, and Sakusa. It’s a nice little restaurant not far from the gym so it’s not the first time they’ve all piled into it for a quick meal. The locals greet them warmly. Usually, Bokuto would eat up all the attention and boast that their next season was going to be the best one yet. But today, Bokuto feels a cold sweat build on his brow every time Atsumu glares at him so he stays in his seat instead. “Sho-kun,” Atsumu grumbles, “are ya ready to order yet?”

Hinata has his hands folded in front of his face in serious thought as he ponders the menu. “Almost.”

“For god’s sake,” Atsumu begs, “just pick something.”

Sakusa uses a napkin to turn the page of the menu. Bokuto’s impressed that they’ve reached a point where Sakusa is willing to eat out with them at all. “Do they still have umeboshi onigiri?”

“What do I look like, the chef?” Atsumu clicks his tongue. Then he glares at Bokuto. “What about you?”

Bokuto jumps in his seat. He nods. When Atsumu is in these especially bratty moods, Bokuto has learned that it’s better to not talk for a bit.

“I’ve decided,” Hinata announces and lowers his hands.

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me,” Atsumu hisses and waves down the waitress, ignoring Sakusa’s long-suffering sigh. Atsumu levels him with a look. “Are ya eatin’ something other than rice and _plums?”_

“Are you paying?” Sakusa shoots back and Atsumu purses his lips.

After they place their orders, Atsumu leans back in his chair. “Alright. Next order of business. Bokkun.” Bokuto winces. “What’re we doin’ about this?”

“Uh.” Bokuto twiddles his thumbs. “About what?”

“Akaashi Keiji.”

“Um.”

“I get it.” Atsumu sticks his nose in the air. “It can be scary. ‘Specially if you’re old friends. High school was a long time ago. Things can change.” Sakusa rubs the back of his neck. “But who really gives a shit? Cowards. That’s who.”

“Are you trying to help him or not?” Sakusa frowns.

“Anyways,” Atsumu says louder, “we know about the crush. Ya tried to hide it. And as punishment, we,” he points to himself, Hinata, and Sakusa, “are gettin’ involved.”

Bokuto shakes his head. “I’m not sure what’s going on here. I wasn’t hiding anything!”

“Always sneaking off after practice to talk to yer mystery friend!” Atsumu huffs. “It was Akaashi, wasn’t it?”

“Oh! I didn’t think of that!” Hinata drums his hands on the table. “Was it?”

“Ugh, I _knew_ I shouldn’t have used that picture!” Bokuto’s hands fly up to his hair. “He was just too cute!”

“So ya admit it!” Atsumu flares.

“Oh my god. I’m going home.” Sakusa reaches for his bag, but Atsumu stops him by threatening to put his shoe on his hand every time he gets close.

“Don’t you want to date Akaashi, Bokuto-san?” Hinata wonders.

“Well, yeah, but…”

“Is he in a relationship?”

“No.”

“Is he straight?”

“No. He told me he was gay.”

Atsumu blinks. “Wait a minute. When did he tell ya that?”

“High school. Right before I graduated.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Atsumu cuts him off by waving his hands. “So he told ya he’s gay, you talk _everyday,_ and he’s still single?”

Sakusa fidgets in his seat. “Is that so weird?”

Hinata grins. “I think that’s a good sign!”

“It’s a big, flashing neon sign!” Atsumu hisses. “Seriously?”

“But Akaashi and me have been friends for so long,” Bokuto laments, garnering the table’s attention again. “I’m not going to risk that.”

“Do you really think Akaashi is the type of person who ends a friendship over something like that?” Sakusa reasons.

“No. No, he’s not.” Bokuto looks up sheepishly. “But… You guys really think I should tell him?”

“Yeah!” Hinata picks up his drink. “And we’ll have your back!”

“You guys.” Bokuto pouts. “You too, Omi?”

Sakusa glances away. “Whatever.”

“Are ya in or not?” Atsumu interjects.

“You know what? Yeah.” Bokuto raises a fist. “Let’s do it. I’m gonna ask Akaashi out!” His smile turns strained and it feels like his chest is suddenly three sizes smaller. “Oh. I’m gonna ask Akaashi out.”

“Hang in there, Bokuto-san!” Hinata shouts as the waitress approaches with their food, looking wary. “We’ll get you a boyfriend!”

Sakusa inches his chair away from the group, determined to put as much space between him and them as possible.

“Let’s get this straight. We’re not friends,” Atsumu rises out of his seat, startling the waitress and the people seated nearby, “but we _are_ a team! And I’m not gonna lose!”


	2. Chapter 2

Bokuto Koutarou knew something was wrong the night he graduated high school. Akaashi was fidgety and nervous the entire day, but Bokuto just figured he was troubled about becoming the team’s captain. “Don’t worry about it so much!” he said. “You can do anything you want, Akaashi!”

Akaashi smiled, but it still wasn’t enough to erase the little crease between his eyebrows he got when he was worried. “Thank you, Bokuto-san.”

“Is something else bothering you?” Bokuto puffs out his chest. “It’s my last day as your senpai. As your goodbye gift, you should let me help!”

Akaashi shook his head. “You should be getting back to your family, Bokuto-san. They’ll all want pictures. They never thought they’d see this day, after all.”

“Akaashi,” Bokuto whined, “don’t be mean!”

“Sorry, sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.

“Hey,” Bokuto tried one more time, dropping his voice, “are you sure there’s nothing wrong? You can tell me. I’d do anything to make you happy, Akaashi.”

Akaashi blinked, face flushing. Back then, Bokuto thought maybe he was just embarrassed to talk about his problem. Now, Bokuto wonders if Akaashi’s feelings were always just within reach. “Um. I… It’s about…” He cleared his throat. “I should have said this earlier, but the timing was never right. It’s like setting the ball. You can't toss too early or the spiker might miss, but if you wait too long then it might already be too late.”

Bokuto nodded. “So it _is_ a volleyball problem! Akaashi,” he set a hand on his shoulder, “I don’t think you need to worry about anything! You’re the best setter I could’ve asked for!”

Akaashi’s head slumped forward, seemingly in defeat, and Bokuto backpedaled. “H-hey, c’mon, I’m telling the truth!”

“I’m gay,” Akaashi blurted and then turns a deep shade of red.

Bokuto smiled, confused. “Okay?”

Akaashi stared at him like he was an idiot. And, in hindsight, he really was.

“Wait, was that what you were worried about? Oh my god. Akaashi. You know, like, half the guys we play with aren’t straight, right? Heck, it’s, like, a prerequisite for some teams.” He paused. “Wait, did I use ‘prerequisite’ right?”

“You did, and I know,” Akaashi said, face still red and shoulders raised. “Thank you, Bokuto-san. I feel better now. Really.”

Even at eighteen, Bokuto knew something was wrong with that response. At twenty-six, it was so clear that he sometimes hides his face under his pillow and screams at his own obliviousness. But, before he could put together all the pieces, his family had caught up to him and were calling him over.

“You shouldn’t keep them waiting,” Akaashi said. “Bye, Bokuto-san.”

It felt like something important just slipped through his fingers, so Bokuto turned around and shouted promises to see each other soon until his throat was sore. Akaashi’s smile never wavered, but he never answered either.

But Bokuto doesn’t forget his promise. Over the years, they manage to stay close. Bokuto is there through Akaashi’s university years, visiting to poke around his small apartment and eat instant ramen as Akaashi studied. He calls often, catching him up on his life and making it a point to invite him to any event he stumbles across.

There are a few nights where their eyes meet just a bit too long. Or their hands linger awkwardly after handing something off. It’s just enough for Bokuto to think, “Maybe,” before one of them retreats and steers them back to the ordinary.

Still, Akaashi is there when Bokuto signs onto the Black Jackals. He rounds up all the guys from high school and they propose a toast to Bokuto’s career. Bokuto is there when Akaashi’s client needs help with his manga or when he needs to rant about the industry altogether. And, sometimes, Akaashi is there for his games.

Atsumu always accuses Bokuto of showboating any time Akaashi is in the gym, which is probably true, but he can’t help it. Any time he scores a point, he looks to the stands. Sometimes he points and the crowd answers with a drawn out, “Bokuto Beam!” Sometimes, he goes for something softer.

From where Akaashi stands, he only sees Bokuto make a heart with his hands and flash it to the crowd. But, from where Bokuto stands, he frames the heart around Akaashi’s proud smile and waits for the day he’ll be able to say the words, too.

“But Akaashi and me have been friends for so long,” Bokuto says when his teammates have him cornered in their favorite restaurant. “I’m not going to risk that.”

Sakusa huffs. “Do you really think Akaashi is the type of person who ends a friendship over something like that?”

“No.” Otherwise it would have ended a long time ago. “No, he’s not.”

They try and fail to come up with ideas. Atsumu is too pessimistic, Sakusa is too realistic, and Hinata is too optimistic. But, at the very least, Bokuto feels a little more confident. Even without a volleyball in hand, Akaashi never stopped sending him tosses, and now it’s Bokuto’s turn.

.

Akaashi Keiji knew something was wrong the second he read Bokuto’s most recent text. He wrinkles his nose at the formal tone and punctuation. Bokuto has not once used a comma in the many years they’ve been friends. A dozen scenarios pass through his brain in a single second, each one more distressing than the last. His thumb hovers over the call button, but he’s in the office and Udai will be here any moment.

He puts his phone aside for now and rises out of his seat when a knock comes to his door. “Yes, come in.”

Udai Tenma enters. He looks even more haggard than the last time Akaashi saw him, all wild hair and baggy eyes. Akaashi slides over the coffee he’s prepared and watches Udai accept it almost unconsciously. He drops a manuscript onto Akaashi’s desk. “It’s done. It’s finished.”

Akaashi eyes the stack of papers with a mixture of relief and dread. “And only a few hours before the deadline.”

Udai plops into a chair with a groan. “Don’t get preachy with me, Akaashi-san. It’s on time.”

“No, I’m genuinely grateful.” He takes the first few pages from the top and glances over them. “These look great, Udai-san. I’ll have them revised by the end of the--” Akaashi’s phone vibrates three times again and Akaashi freezes. He set a custom pattern for Bokuto ages ago, just to prepare himself in case his high school volleyball captain was in an especially petulant mood. Even all these years later, the effect is nearly the same.

Udai sips his coffee, eyeing Akaashi suspiciously. “Need to answer that?”

Akaashi shakes his head. “No, I’m sure it’s fine. Like I was saying, I’ll have these revised by the end of the week.”

“Are you sure?”

“End of the week,” Akaashi asserts. He has a feeling he’s going to need some time off soon.

.

“There!” Hinata proclaims proudly. “I sent it for you, Bokuto-san!”

Atsumu smirks. “Didn’t think ya’d be too chicken to send a text, Bokkun.”

Bokuto scoffs. “I am _not_ chicken. But, what I’ve been doing is obviously not working so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try Hinata’s idea.”

Hinata stiffens into a mock salute. “Happy to help!”

“Yeah, whatever, but what did’ja end up sending, Shoyo?” Atsumu peers over his shoulder.

**Good morning, Akaashi-san! 🦉🌻😋 I hope ur day is as nice and pretty as ur smile! Missing you lots!!!!! 💞💕💖💕**

Atsumu breaks into laughter. “That’s totally what a middle schooler would send to his crush!”

“HUH? It is not! Everybody likes good morning texts!”

“Sorry, but I doubt Akaashi is the type to be swayed by emoji spams.”

“We’ll just see, won’t we?” Hinata asks confidently. “Has he replied yet?”

Bokuto shakes his head. “No, not yet. He’s probably at work, though.” He sighs. “He’s so smart.”

“Ugh.” Atsumu shivers. “Where’s Omi-kun? I can’t take all this _emoting.”_

Later, as Bokuto packs up to go home, he receives a reply: **Thanks?**

Bokuto deflates until his phone buzzes a second time. **Did something happen? Are you okay?**

“It didn’t work,” Bokuto announces to his teammates as they leave. “I think I just worried him.”

Atsumu points at Hinata triumphantly. “I told ya!”

“Shut up.”

“This is why ya never beat around the bush.” Atsumu holds out his hand. “Give it here. I’ll settle this in one message.”

Bokuto glances at his phone then at Atsumu’s hand. “I don’t know. This is starting to seem weird.”

“Why does it only seem weird when I’m doin’ it?”

Sakusa raises an eyebrow. “He’s right. It’s weird.”

“Do you wanna date him or not?” Atsumu demands. Bokuto hesitates then hands over his phone with a defeated sigh. “Great. Now watch and learn.”

.

Akaashi blinks at the words on his screen. Several possibilities run through his head in milliseconds: Bokuto is drunk, he’s been kidnapped and he’s trying to send out a distress code, he’s been hacked, or he just watched a really _terrible_ movie and is sharing a line he thought was funny. There’s just no way that Bokuto Koutarou seriously typed out: **hey bb r u a coach? bc im a playa. lemme take u out and show u my game xoxo**

“Something’s wrong,” he announces to the room.

His guest peers over the back of the couch, gold eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Do _not_ tell me the delivery guy forgot my dumplings.”

Akaashi sighs. “No, they’re here. Have you talked to Bokuto-san recently?”

“Define recently.”

“In the last few days?”

“No.”

“He’s acting weird.”

“This is hardly a recent issue.”

“Kenma,” Akaashi scolds, “I’m serious. He’s been different ever since I went to see him.”

Kenma hums flatly, eyes fixed to his phone screen. “Maybe he’s sick.”

“Has Kuroo mentioned anything?”

“Nope. So, about those dumplings…”

“Kenma.”

Kenma lowers his phone and frowns as Akaashi comes over with two plates of food. “Fine. How has he been acting weird?”

Akaashi purses his lips. “He sent me some strange texts today. Usually, Bokuto will just ramble about practice and what birds he saw during his morning run or how much his athlete’s diet is bumming him out. But, today, I got a text saying good morning with a lot of emojis.”

“Bokuto’s a pretty emotional guy, I guess.”

“He used a comma.”

Kenma sets his phone down on the table and folds his hands in his lap. “What?”

“I know.” Akaashi fishes in his pocket. “And, just now, he sent me this.”

He hands Kenma the phone and watches in relief as Kenma also grimaces in response to the flirty tone. “Who the hell is that?” Kenma demands. “That _can’t_ be Bokuto.”

“Yeah, exactly. I can’t tell if someone is messing with me or if maybe I accidentally made Bokuto upset when I visited and now he’s acting out.”

Kenma hums in thought, reaching for his chopsticks and tucking a piece of his hair behind one ear. “Shoyo is on Bokuto’s team. Do you want me to text him and ask?”

 _Shoyo,_ Akaashi thinks with a spark of realization. He leans back, crossing his arms as a plan already forms in his mind. “No.” He grins. “Not yet.”

.

“Tsum-Tsum, I think Akaashi left you on read,” Bokuto announces to the entire team and Atsumu feels a vein pop in his forehead.

“You mean he left _you_ on read, dumbass!”

“Oh, I guess so.”

Meian sighs. “I don’t know what’s been going on with you guys and I’m glad you’re getting along, but must you be so loud so early?”

Tomas shakes his head. “It’s no use. Once they get stuck on something, you can’t pull them away. It’s what makes them such good players, but I guess that doesn’t translate into real life very well.”

Bokuto shows the phone to Atsumu and Hinata. “What do I do now? He didn’t respond! It’s been six hours!”

“I don’t know what else you expected,” Sakusa says. “Miya wouldn’t know romance even if it hit him in the face.”

Atsumu gives a single, angry laugh. “Please! Like yer some smooth-talker! If yer so confident, come prove it then!”

Hinata raises his hand. “Let me try one more time! I’ll get it right!”

“Huh?” Atsumu spins around. “You cheater! That’s not fair!”

“All’s fair in love and war!” Hinata argues.

“Stop yelling like children,” Sakusa interrupts. “Give me the phone.”

“Omi!” Bokuto lights up. “Really?”

“Just hurry up. I want to get this over with.” Bokuto hands over his phone and Sakusa sends a text and gives it back in two seconds flat.

Bokuto frowns at the screen with Atsumu and Hinata popping up on either side of him, peering over his shoulders to read: **I tolerate your existence.**

“Omi-san,” Hinata whispers, “what?”

“What?” Sakusa ruffles. “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

Atsumu rubs his chin. “No, he’s right. That’s good.”

Hinata grimaces at both of them.

Bokuto lets out a loud shout. “He replied!”

**I feel the same.**

“IT WORKED?!” they shout together. Bokuto and Hinata shriek until Meian puts down his water bottle and gives them a stern look. Sakusa shoots Atsumu a smug smirk that’s answered with an angry hand gesture.

Bokuto holds his phone so tightly that the pixels flicker under his thumbs. “What the heck am I supposed to do now?” he wonders aloud. Sakusa shrugs.

“What do you mean? It’s time to reel him in!” Atsumu punches the air. Beside him, Hinata mimics reeling in a fishing line. “Ask him out!”

“Make him dinner!” Hinata interjects. “Spaghetti!”

“Dare I ask,” Sakusa mutters, “why spaghetti?”

“Everyone knows that’s the most romantic meal!” Hinata scoffs and shakes his head. “Haven’t you ever watched _Lady and the Tramp?”_

“Hinata, you’re a genius,” Bokuto exclaims and types out a new message. “I’m doing it right now!”

“You know, spaghetti might be a good choice,” Atsumu adds. “Even Bokkun should be able to boil pasta.”

Sakusa hums. “I don’t know. Remember the potluck at Inunaki’s?”

“Oh, man. Poor Wan-san.” Atsumu rubs his forehead. “Maybe buy pre-made sauce at the very least.”

“Good call.” Bokuto nods solemnly.

Hinata glances between them. “What happened at Wan-san’s potluck?”

“Can’t say,” Atsumu, Bokuto, and Sakusa say together, looking away quickly.

.

**Akaashiii! i know ur probably busy with work but if ur free this weekend u should come visit again! im gonna make spaghetti. completely fish free!**

Akaashi feels himself relax at the familiar rambling tone. He has no idea why Bokuto would need to declare his spaghetti as fish free, but their versions of normal _have_ always been different. He’ll ask about it when they’re face to face, and maybe better understand the parts of Bokuto’s life he’s not always privy to. **That sounds great.**

He looks at his partly finished revisions of Udai’s rough draft with refreshed determination. Half of his brain adds little notes to certain panels and corrects lines of dialogue while the other half whirs out a plan of how to deal with the interlopers that have stumbled into Bokuto’s phone.

 _I won’t lose to them,_ the hero in the manga declares in a little speech bubble, and Akaashi adds a note, “Very relatable.”

The week passes quickly. Akaashi delivers his revisions to Udai and tells him to take his time with his next draft. “Oh, by the way,” he says before he leaves, “I’ll be out of town tomorrow. So if you need me, call my cell.”

Udai nods, already sorting through the pages. “Okay. Tell Bokuto I said hello.”

Akaashi smiles. “I’ll do that.”

He double checks the time then lets Bokuto know he’s on his way. The two and a half hour ride to Osaka from Tokyo is long, but familiar. Akaashi brings along extra work to keep him busy. There’s always plenty to review and schedule and reorganize. It’s not what he thought he’d be doing, but it’s growing on him.

As he steps off the train and passes through the gates, he hears his name called. Bokuto, as always, is right outside the gates, nearly bouncing on his toes as he waits to greet him. He’s always adamant about meeting partway and driving them both to Higashiosaka rather than Akaashi going alone the entire way. It’s a sweet gesture, and one that never fails to render the long commutes inconsequential.

“You really made it!” Bokuto beams. “Hey, did you see my interview? Did you? Wasn’t I the coolest?”

“Ah, no. I must have missed it.”

“Akaashi!” He winces in fake pain. “You wound me!”

Akaashi lightly cuffs him on the shoulder. “Of course I saw it. You were very cool. Also, thank you for meeting me again.”

“It’s not fair that you’re the one that usually has to take the train. This is the least I can do. Besides, I like meeting you here.”

Akaashi smiles and Bokuto gives one right back. There’s something softer about him today, but before he can figure it out he realizes that he’s been staring for far too long. He clears his throat. “So, uh, car?”

Bokuto snaps back to himself. “Right! I parked… somewhere. Over here.”

“Lead the way.”

After they locate the car and get settled in, Akaashi asks, “Oh, by the way, Bokuto-san? Would you mind if I used your phone? I forgot to tell Udai-san something important and my phone died during the ride over here.”

“Sure. It’s in the cupholder, I think.”

“Thank you.” Akaashi grabs his phone and raises an eyebrow at the lockscreen. “Bokuto-san?”

“Hm?”

“Why is your background a picture of… Is that Hinata’s thumb?”

Bokuto doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “Work stuff.”

Akaashi blinks. “Okay.”

With that, he sends a quick text and formally sets his plan into motion.

.

Atsumu pokes at the lumpy rice on his plate with a scowl. “How dare they call this onigiri? It’s all misshapen and cold like Omi-kun.”

“Why do I even hang around you guys?” Sakusa hisses as he rubs the table down with his own sanitary wipes. “Also, why is this table so sticky?”

Hinata shrugs. “Maybe someone spilled their soda. Or someone _really_ had to sneeze.”

Sakusa drops the wipes and raises his hands as Atsumu glares at Hinata. “Great. Now we’ll never get him back in here again.”

Simultaneously, their phones chime. They each received a single message from Bokuto reading: **GUYS MISSION FAILED PLS COME OVER I REPEAT MISSION FAILED**

Sakusa glances at the time. “Wasn’t Akaashi supposed to arrive, like, twenty minutes ago?”

“How did he mess it up already?” Atsumu holds his head in frustration. “I don’t believe it. I give him a golden opportunity, and this is how he thanks me?”

Sakusa rolls his eyes. “Not that I really care, but it _was_ my text that Akaashi actually responded to.”

Atsumu redirects his glare to Sakusa and pretends to zip his lips.

Hinata frowns. “Should we go see him? He seems pretty upset.”

“He probably put fish in the damn spaghetti and scared him off.” Atsumu stands with a stretch. “He’s gonna be all emotional and shit. Not really my thing.” Sakusa nods in agreement.

Hinata gasps. “You guys, c’mon! We’re the ones that pushed him to do this. We can’t just let him be alone. What kind of team would we be then?”

Sakusa shrugs. “Don’t care, really, so long as I get to play.”

“Dammit.” Atsumu groans. “I care.” Sakusa gapes at him. “What if Bokuto’s infamous emo mode returns because of this?” he explains. “Ya might as well use a wet noodle to spike the ball when he’s like that.”

“So, we’re going?”

Atsumu nods, and Sakusa sighs in resignation. “Fine.” He glances at Atsumu. “It’ll probably be more annoying later if we don’t.”

Bokuto’s apartment isn’t far. It takes them a little less than fifteen minutes to split the bill and make the trek over. Hinata leads the way and knocks on the door. “Bokuto-san!” he calls. “It’s us!”

“Come in,” comes a voice that doesn’t sound like Bokuto at all.

 _He must be really upset,_ Hinata thinks as he opens the door. “Bokuto-san?”

“Guess again,” the voice replies and Hinata freezes. Akaashi Keiji greets them with arms crossed and an amused smile on his face.

“What the fuck?” Atsumu exclaims.

Hinata beams. “Akaashi-san!”

Sakusa shoves his hands in his pockets. “I knew it.”

“Wait, where’s Bokkun?” Atsumu points at Akaashi accusingly. “What have you done with him?”

Akaashi pushes up his glasses. “He’s out buying me a Grape Coke.”

 _“Grape_ Coke?”

“I made it up. We have less than forty-two minutes until he calls me to say he’s lost in the Seiyu parking lot.”

“Okay,” Sakusa says, “but why?”

Akaashi leans against the back of the couch and answers, “I was the one that texted all of you. I wanted to talk. Alone. Mainly, I want to know why you’ve been sabotaging Bokuto-san’s attempts to flirt with me.”

Atsumu chokes. _“Sabotage?_ I _saved_ him!”

Sakusa frowns. “How did you figure it out so quickly?”

“I’m glad you asked.” Akaashi stands upright to show them his phone. “This is the text that Hinata sent me.”

Hinata squawks, covering his cheeks in embarrassment. “How’d you know it was me?!”

“Hinata texts me sometimes. He always uses similar strings of emojis, some of which were found in this good morning text. Also, Bokuto-san never uses commas and he has never called me ‘san’ in my life.” He grins. “Did you think of me as an amatuer?”

Hinata hangs his head in defeat. Atsumu flicks his arm with a scowl. “Way to go, Shoyo!”

“Please,” Akaashi shakes his head, “you were the easiest one to figure out by _far,_ Miya-san. Your brother and I talk, too, you know. I’ve heard all about how you try to flirt with-”

“WOW, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME?” Atsumu yells, looking at his bare wrist. “I’ve gotta go die in a hole now. Been nice talkin’ to ya.”

Sakusa holds up an arm to prevent Atsumu from escaping. “So, do you just talk to everyone?” he asks Akaashi, who shrugs.

“Honestly, what was most surprising was you, Sakusa-san. I didn’t think you were the type to go along with things like this.”

Sakusa huffs. “This is annoying.”

“Anyways,” Akaashi holds up his hands, “I’m not upset or anything like that. I just wanted to let you know that it’s not necessary. I’m aware of Bokuto’s feelings as clearly as my own.” Hinata’s jaw drops. “I kind of have a plan, so I’d appreciate it if you stopped meddling for now. It’ll happen when we’re both ready, and I’m confident of that.”

“Gross,” Atsumu mutters under his breath and Sakusa nods in agreement. Hinata is practically floating with happiness, asking a rapid stream of questions that Akaashi politely declines to answer right now.

In the midst of the excitement, they barely notice the door open again until they hear Bokuto loudly announce, “Akaashi! I got the Grape Coke!”

The room falls silent. Akaashi tilts his head to one side. “You… did?”

“Yeah! They had a deal going on so I got a - Oh, hey guys.” Bokuto looks at his company with a confused, but pleased smile. “What’re you doing here?”

Before any of them can reply, Akaashi says in a bright tone, “Oh, they showed up saying they were just missing you, isn’t that right?”

“Um,” Atsumu gulps, “yeah. We missed ya, man.”

Hinata nods quickly. “I missed you _a lot.”_

“I missed you so much,” Sakusa deadpans, “that I’m going home and never leaving again.”

“Yeah, same,” Atsumu mutters. “Let’s get the hell outta here.”

“Hey, you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner? At least take some Grape Coke?” Bokuto nods to the bottles cradled in his arms. “I bought, like, five.”

Sakusa files out the door without a second glance. Hinata excuses himself and wishes them a goodnight. Atsumu pauses before he leaves, opens his mouth as if to say something, then snaps it shut again. As he passes, he snatches one of the bottles from Bokuto’s arms and slams the door behind them.

Bokuto blinks. “Guess they’re not hungry.”

Akaashi shrugs. “Guess not. I hope you don’t mind, but I already started on the pasta. It should be ready soon.”

“Akaashi,” Bokuto whines, “the guest isn’t supposed to do that!” He shuffles into the kitchen and Akaashi follows him, watching fondly as Bokuto sets the remaining four bottles of Grape Coke on the counter.

“You really bought me Grape Coke,” he muses with a smile.

“Of course I did!” Bokuto lifts his chin proudly. “I’d do anything to make you happy, Akaashi! You know that, right?”

“Yeah. I do.” Akaashi steps around Bokuto to check on the pasta. A comfortable silence settles over them. It feels terribly domestic to be in Bokuto’s kitchen like he belongs there, stirring noodles and listening to Bokuto rummage in his cupboards for the colander.

There have been a few times where both of them have tried to bridge this gap between them. Akaashi is painfully aware of Bokuto’s graduation, when he fumbled his way through a half-baked confession and Bokuto hadn’t caught on. He’s caught on since then, but life just kept getting in the way. That’s why Akaashi has been so careful, waiting for the perfect time to say exactly what he wanted to say back then. It hasn’t happened yet - even years later - and sometimes he wonders if the perfect time even exists.

Or, maybe, the perfect time is when Bokuto buys him a stupid flavored soda after his friends try to make him happy.

Bokuto gets out two glasses and opens the first bottle of Grape Coke. “Did you know Inu-san is allergic to most fish?” he rambles, and Akaashi's memory fills in the blanks.

Akaashi grabs a towel and clears his throat. “Bokuto-san,” he says, “would you like to go on a date with me? Tomorrow, maybe?”

Bokuto jerks violently, spilling coke all over the counter. “AKAASHI?!”

Prepared, Akaashi wipes up the mess before it can reach anything electric. “I want to make you happy, too,” he continues as Bokuto’s eyes shine, “so… Anywhere you want.”

Bokuto chews on his lower lip as he thinks then, softly, he asks, “Burger King?”

Akaashi softens. “Burger King.”

He jumps and grabs Akaashi’s shoulders. “I’D LOVE TO! Oh my god, Akaashi, this is gonna be the best date ever! Wait, watch the pasta! I gotta go find my suit!”

Akaashi watches him run off with a laugh. He supposes he’ll have to thank Bokuto’s teammates after all.

.

After that, Akaashi visits more often. They go on more dates. Bokuto often makes it a point to buy the weirdest flavor soda they can find and share it. Hinata is the first one to like the selfies they post together on Instagram. Sakusa usually likes them, too, and Atsumu pretends not to see them at all.

Akaashi is at every game he can attend, usually bringing Udai along and slowly getting him addicted to Onigiri Miya. Now, though, when Bokuto flashes a heart sign to the crowd, Akaashi gives one back to him.

After the game, Akaashi sneaks down to the court to congratulate him on a win. Bokuto always meets him halfway. “Akaashi!” he shouts, slinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. “You came!”

“Of course I did.”

“Oh, joy to the world,” Atsumu mutters, wiping his face with a towel. “The ex-setter is here.”

Sakusa hums noncommittally.

“Hey, stop calling him that,” Bokuto interjects. “I don’t like the ‘ex’ part. Akaashi is my _boyfriend.”_

“Ew,” Sakusa mumbles.

“Akaashi-san!” Hinata runs to greet him. “Did you see me score the last point?”

“I did. You’ve gotten even faster since high school.”

“We should all go celebrate together!” Bokuto suggests. “The diner across the street is still open.”

Sakusa sighs. “Guess I'll go wash up.”

Atsumu stretches his back. “Since Sho-kun was tonight’s big hero and scored the last point that means it’s his treat this time, right?”

“What?” Hinata spins around. “I never agreed to that!”

“I’ll go reserve a table for everyone,” Akaashi says. “You all go hit the locker room.”

“Thanks, ‘Kaashi.” Bokuto leans forward and presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “You’re the best.”

By the time they’re all piled into a booth, Akaashi’s already wiped down the seat and table and ordered the first round of drinks. Bokuto watches him hand over a small bottle of sanitizer to a curious Sakusa and a perplexed Atsumu. Hinata squeezes in on Akaashi’s other side. “Does it really smell like the rain?” he asks.

Bokuto is hit with a wave of contentment. He pulls out his phone and interrupts them. “Hey, guys, photo time! Everyone squish together!”

Akaashi smiles sweetly at the camera as Hinata pops into frame with an overly exaggerated smile. Sakusa and Atsumu lean in as well. Sakusa holds up a lazy peace sign while Atsumu winks and puckers his lips. Bokuto sets it as his lockscreen immediately. “There,” he smiles as he shows them, “now all my favorite people are here.”

Atsumu tenses. He tucks his hands under his arms and looks like he ate something sour. “Tsum-Tsum,” Bokuto calls, “you okay, buddy?”

He sniffles. “Whatever. It’s not like I cared what ya thought of me.”

“Oh my God,” Sakusa complains.

Hinata laughs. “It’s okay, Tsumu-san. We understand what you mean.”

“Shaddup!”

Later, Bokuto sends the photo to everyone anyway, and they all pretend not to see Atsumu save it to his gallery with a genuine smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bold of these guys to assume they can trick Akaashi on matters related to Bokuto
> 
> Anywho, thanks to everyone for reading! This fic is the first in a little series based around the Black Jackals and their extended fam: next up is Atsumu and Sakusa's turn. 🙏

**Author's Note:**

> "I don't care," says Atsumu and Sakusa as they proceed to care a lot.
> 
> To be continued!! :)


End file.
